


I Hear You

by Black_Calliope



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:58:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Calliope/pseuds/Black_Calliope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson never says the words. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, he just doesn’t know <i>how</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hear You

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by [this picture](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7baihRlVW1qizw7yo1_500.jpg). Also, Jackson is quite an interesting character and I wanted to try something new. Hope you'll enjoy. :)

Jackson never says the words. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, he just doesn’t know  _how_.

It pains him at times, watch the angles of his mother’s mouth curl slightly downwards as she kisses him goodbye every morning, whispers the words right against his jaw, there where faint stubble has slowly started covering smooth skin.

Sometimes she pats him on the cheek, and Jackson can see how much she longs to hear him say it back, catches that little hesitation, that outstretched second when everything stops, even her breath, and he finds himself hesitating, lips parting  _just so_ \- But it never happens, and he finds himself smiling his relaxed smile, kissing back his mom and waving goodbye to his dad, right before turning his back to them and leave.

There are times when he wishes he could be able to will his throat to function, force his tongue to move in the right way, twist the empty sounds in his chest into something  _worth_  to say, three plain words that would probably change him for life. But his body - his mind - won’t bend to his desires, stubborn like a bull it keeps refusing to obey, and so he swallows and goes on. Because that’s what you do when you crave something.

It’s on a rainy, summer day that something finally changes. He is laying on his bed and Danny is right there beside him, elbows digging holes into the mattress as he keeps himself up, glances to the window, where rain collides against glass, loudly and copiously.

They have never had sex. The time they spend together has nothing to do with it, and yet Jackson treasures these few moments like something precious, tries to enjoy them as much as he can because  _he knows_. He knows that one day, maybe in one year, maybe tomorrow, Danny won’t be  _his_ the was he is now, won’t look at him the same way he does when Jackson mutters random thoughts and considerations while playing with Danny’s belongings, rolling the pen Danny has held between his teeth over his palm, skidding his fingertips over the marks left over the plastic-  _Everything will change_.

When Danny stills, left palm flat against the silky sheets, Jackson realizes that he’s just said it out loud, accidentally externalizing his thoughts. The sound of the rain becomes even louder as he turns to look Danny in the eyes, doesn’t hide anything because there has never been nothing to hide. Not to Danny.

And Danny watches him back, eyebrows relaxed and eyes intent and  _so alive_. He doesn’t say anything, though, just lays there a moment longer, holding Jackson’s gaze, before turning away.

Words don’t really matter between them, they never have, so Jackson isn’t surprised when Danny turns his attention on something else, letting the bubble of tension explode like a dandelion in the middle of a storm. But he sure is taken aback when, after having grabbed a pen from the near desk, Danny sets one hand over the hem of his shirt.

Jackson freezes, watches the hand that’s barely brushing his belly like he’s never seen it before, and he finds himself almost on the verge of asking -  _what are you doing? Why are you-?_  - but the calm, quiet light dancing in Danny’s irises stops him, makes him swallow back every syllabe and inhale, arch against the mattress when Danny’s fingertips close around the cloth of his shirt, pulling and tugging until Jackson’s naked chest is fully exposed.

The snapping sound of the cap of the pen being removed is almost like a gunshot, working its way inside Jackson’s chest and making him hold his breath. But Danny isn’t watching him anymore, his attention diverted as he slides his hand against the flat line of Jackson’s abdomen, fingertips lazily following every curve of his body, moving up until they reach the soft hollow right under his collarbone.

Jackson can hear the way Danny’s heart is beating to a mad rhythm, galloping like a wild horse. And maybe that’s what they both are, two wild animals curled together, stealing comfort and heat from one another, treasuring this strange bond because they know that nothing else will ever be better than this.

Yet Jackson finds himself terrified to discover what’s right after that corner, what will happen if they cross the line, if they dare to take that last step- Everything is washed away by the pen tip touching him, cold metal pressing into skin as Danny’s hand moves, guides it over Jackson’s skin, leaving a curled trail made of ink behind.

Danny’s eyes are soft while he writes, his hand burning hot against Jackson’s oversensitive skin and Jackson finds himself unable to move, unable to do anything else but let Danny take this from him, let him slide his fingers over the sharp curve of his hipbone and sink there. And when Danny finally speaks again, Jackson’s name is the only word leaving his lips, a sound fragile like crystallized sugar, and Danny sound so scared, the spark in his eyes different and yet  _so familiar_.

Something important has just happened, but Jackson is missing the key piece to solve the puzzle, won’t understand completely until he’ll see what’s that Danny has just written on him. That’s why he doesn’t reply, just fluidly slides away from the heat of Danny’s body, abadoning the safety of his own bed to walk towards the mirror.

Seeing the words written on his skin feels like being inside an hourglass that has just been turned upside down, the world becoming blurry at the edges as Jackson’s eye fix on the dark ink. He doesn’t even hear Danny moving until he is standing behind him, tall and handsome and watching Jackson as if it’s true, as if  _he loves him_.

That’s when it happens, when Danny presses his lips against the side of Jackson’s neck, delicate and gentle, and something shifts around them, carefulness leaving place to deep, burning hot realization.

What happens next is something that will always stay with Jackson, he’ll always remember the tentative touches, the trembling of his lips when Danny’s fingers finally find his chin, holding it and tilting his head so he can kiss Jackson, how slowly, one touch at time, the words seep through every line of Jackson’s skin, oblivious precursors of the tattoo that will soon take their place.

Danny smiles when he sees it for the first time, tells Jackson that it suits him, because he deserves these words, deserves to see them every morning, deserves to be reminded that he is loved, that he is a person  _worth loving_. Jackson shrugs in reply, but his smug grin betrays him.

And when Danny grins back and drags him towards the bed, losing his shirt in the process, Jackson thinks that he might never say the words, but, from now on, he’ll always carry them on himself.

**Author's Note:**

> [Chinese Translation](http://bulaoge.net/topic.blg?dmn=wunainaizi&tid=2467831#Content)
> 
>  
> 
> by zayden05


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